A Week in Texas
by HotlipsPierce
Summary: The gang from PPTH goes to a conference in Austin, Texas.  Huddy to come.
1. A Prologue

A Week in Texas

By Hotlips Pierce

A/N: This is my first House fic, so please be nice!!

"But, Cuddy, I don't want to go!" Dr. Greg House whined and moaned as he paced about his boss's office.

"But, House, I don't care what you want!" mimicked said boss, Dr. Lisa Cuddy back to her favorite insolent employee. "It is one conference for one week in Texas. I need you to speak. The hospital needs you to speak. Face it, House, for better or for worse, you're good P.R."

"Face it, Cuddy, I don't care what the hospital thinks."

"Would it make you feel better if you knew that Wilson's speaking, too?"

"Oh, yes, because it's just what he and I need. A getaway just for us in the land of intolerance and ignorance," House sarcastically spat to her.

"I'll have you know that Austin, Texas, is a haven for hippie culture," Cuddy argued, leaning across her desk.

House got right in her face, "You've known me long enough to know that the one thing I hate more than unwarranted intolerance is hippies."

"Do you hear yourself when you say things like that?"

"No, I'm more like my little team in that regard. I try to tune myself out."

"Oh, that reminds me - they're going as well."

"What?! You can't take my team from me!"

"I want them to hear what these people have to say. Besides, I'm not taking them from you. You're going with them, remember?"

"People are going to die because we're not here to figure out what's wrong with them."

"Gregory House, people lived and died long before you entered this world, and they'll live and die long after you're gone. You're special, but not that special."

"Like you don't believe the hospital wouldn't fall apart if _you_ were gone for seven whole days."

"We'll find out, won't we?"

"Huh?"

"Our flight leaves for Austin at 9 AM next Tuesday. Be at the airport by 7:30. Have a lecture prepared. If it is any shorter than twenty minutes, you'll be on constant clinic duty until Cameron is a grandmother. Now, go to the clinic, and see some patients."

"Fine, I will happily go to the clinic. You wanna know why?"

Cuddy sighed and then humored him. "Why?"

"Because it will give me a chance to work on saying, 'Howdy, partner' and 'Hey, y'all'," said House in the worst Texan accent he could muster.

He then promptly turned and limped out the door, but not before hearing Cuddy yell after him, "Cute! Do you do British, too?"


	2. Getting There is Half the Battle

A Week in Texas, Chapter 2

By HotlipsPierce

I'd like to take this time to issue my very first House disclaimer...I own abso-bloomin-lutely nothing. Nada. Nyet. Nuttin. Please don't sue.

However, if you could review, I would be very pleased. Thank you.

Enjoy.

At 8:05 the next Tuesday, Cuddy stood at the assigned gate for flight 1128 to Austin, anxiously tapping her foot and checking her watch for the 61st time that minute. Sitting not too far from her were the ever-vigilant "ducklings," as she liked to refer to them privately. None seemed terribly excited to go on this trip, but if it meant spending a week not having their medical opinions constantly berated, they would have gladly volunteered to go bungee jumping into a pool of sharks.

_Thank God at least they were on time_, Cuddy thought as she once again contemplated calling James Wilson. To ensure that House would, indeed, show up at 7:30, she'd asked the oncologist to kindly pick up his so-called "best friend" on his way to the airport. Sure, if the two strolled in now, they would make the flight with almost an hour to spare, but that wasn't the point. No, the point was that they were obviously disregarding her authority as their boss. _I mean, c'mon, there was no traffic, it seems to be a light travel day, what the hell is keeping them?_

Just then, her cell phone buzzed in her hand. The name "Wilson" appeared on the screen. Trying mightily to keep herself from screaming various colorful obscenities, Cuddy very quietly snapped, "What?"

"We have a slight problem."

"You bet we do. You two were supposed to be here over half an hour ago! I thought you were supposed to be the responsible one in that friendship."

"I know. I was. As it happens, we were here on time, and everything was going quite smoothly until the worst possible thing happened."

"Oh, good Lord, what did he say?"

"He may have mentioned to one of the...'weight-challenged' security guards here that she was, and I quote, 'a heart attack waiting to happen.' You know how charming he is about stuff like that. Well, apparently she took it as a threat - why, I don't know; someone had to say it to her eventually. I mean, really, the woman..."

"Wilson!"

"Right, well, now House is sitting in an office somewhere being questioned as to his role in a possible terroristic plot to harm airport security guards."

"Beautiful."

"Oh, and they took away his Vicodin."

"Fu...Darn," Cuddy quickly corrected herself, suddenly remembering her family-friendly surroundings. However, the sentiment still remained. Having to deal with House was one thing; having to deal with an un-medicated House was quite another bowl of fish all together. "Okay, what do you need me to do?"

"If you could come down here and convince these fine people that Greg House is not an imminent threat to national security, that would be just dandy."

"It'll be hard, but I'll do what I can."

Forty minutes, many fake smiles, and a quiet promise of a year's worth of free medical care later, House and Wilson were finally able to follow Cuddy as she deftly maneuvered her way through the now-busy terminal to join Chase, Foreman, and Cameron, who were waiting patiently to board the flight. Upon getting on the plane, Cuddy made a point of sitting next to her head diagnostician so as to keep out of as much trouble as she humanly could.

"I hope you're pleased with yourself."

"Is it my fault some people just can't take critiques? Did you get my pills back?"

"Here." She shoved the bottle into his waiting hands.

"Muchas gracias. I've been working on my Spanish in anticipation for this trip."

"I'm sure."

"You wanna hear what I taught Wilson in the car?"

"No."

Ignoring his boss' wishes, House went ahead and enlightened her. "_Donde esta el bano?_ Guess what that means."

"Where's the bathroom."

"Oh, you're good. Okay, how about this one - _dos mas cervezas, por favor_."

"Two more beers, please. You know, House, people do speak English in Texas."

"Of course they do. One more - _sus pechos grandes me hacen caliente_."

Before Cuddy had a chance to try to translate the phrase in her head, Wilson leaned over from across the aisle. "Stop. You don't want to know."

Once they were able to get off the ground, the flight to Texas was surprisingly smooth, and before they knew it, the six doctors were walking out the doors of Austin-Bergstrom International Airport. "So this is Texas," Robert Chase drawled in that Aussie way of his.

"You betcha, Captain Obvious Kangaroo."

"House, be nice."

"He's my lackey, Jimmy. I can say whatever I want. Besides, who could be nice in this unbearable heat?"

"I could, " Allison Cameron offered.

"Well, of course, _you_ could. If you got sent to Hell, the first thing you'd do would be to give the devil a sympathy hug. How's the heat treating you so far, Blackpoleon?"

"Just fine. I don't have to worry about burning," retorted Eric Foreman.

"Lucky you. Hey, where'd Cuddy go?"

"To get us a van to go to the hotel." Sure enough, as soon as Wilson finished his answer, Cuddy reappeared with a hotel van following closely behind.

Soon, the group was being shuttled through the streets of Austin. "Apparently, Austin is the capital and the fourth largest city in Texas and was named for Stephen F. Austin, who originally helped to bring settlers into Texas."

"Chase, what are you, Wikipedia?"

"What, you don't research a city before you visit it?"

"No, no I don't." House turned away from his employee, annoyed at such utter displays of eagerness. As he stared out the window, he suddenly saw something that intrigued him. "Hey, what's that big tower in the distance?"

"It's the University of Texas tower. See, if you'd done research, you would have known that."

"All right, I have three rooms reserved for us, each with two double beds," Cuddy declared as she returned to the lobby after checking-in at the hotel. There she found House lounging on the couch, massaging his aching leg. Wilson was next to him; they both seemed to be caught up in the soap opera that was on. Chase, Cameron, and Foreman were standing off to the side, obviously working on plans for going out later that evening. All turned to Cuddy when she made her announcement. "Cameron and I will be rooming together. Wilson and Foreman, you'll be together, and House and Chase, you'll be together."

"Wait, why can't Wilson and I be together?"

"Because deep down, you refuse to admit the real feelings you have for each other and give up the heterosexual facade." Her comment was met with glares on the part of House and Wilson and hysterical, side-splitting laughter on the part of the ducklings. "Unless you meant why can't you room together for the week? Well, I just decided to change things up for once."

"Bitch."

"Cripple."

"Administrator."

"Addict."

"Hey!" Wilson interjected, trying to cut off a pointless argument. "Let's grab our keys and go to the rooms, okay?"

Cameron set her luggage down on her bed. She didn't really appreciate having to room with Cuddy, but as she was the only other female on the trip, it made sense. _She's known House for so long. Maybe I can learn more about him from before the infarction._

Cuddy put her luggage down. She could feel Cameron's eyes searing into her back. The prospect having to spend a week with someone she found so annoying was daunting, but, hey, Cuddy had survived worse. _Maybe I can break her of this infatuation with House._

Foreman threw his bag over a chair. He didn't know Wilson very well, but he did know that Wilson and House were best friends. _How could anyone be such good friends with someone like that? I guess there's only one way to find out._

Wilson gently laid his suitcase on the bed. He knew Foreman was struggling with the possibility that, in terms of personality, he was no better than House. _If only he knew how House felt about that._

Chase set his luggage by his bed. He wouldn't deny that he hoped this week he could do something for which House wouldn't bully him or tease him. _There has to be something._

House reclined on his bed after hanging his cane over the door. He pulled out his PSP. _I wonder if I can to level three before dinner._


	3. Much Ado About Huddy

A Week in Texas, Chapter 3

By HotlipsPierce

Thank you for all your kind reviews. I'm sorry I don't have the time to get back to you personally, but your gratification is very, very appreciated!!

Again, I own zero. Thank you.

Enjoy.

"So...do you and Chase and Foreman have plans for the night?" Cuddy hesitantly ventured. _It would do no good to be surly all week_, she thought.

"Um...well, it really depended on what time the conference started tomorrow."

"Not until four in the afternoon. Go have fun tonight."

"Okay. Chase was talking about going down to Sixth Street. It's supposed to be where all of the good bars and clubs are. Something of an Austin legend, apparently."

"Found that out in his 'research,' did he?"

"Yeah," Cameron laughed a bit. "I hope you don't mind that we're leaving you and Wilson and House out."

"Oh, God, not at all. You don't want to hand around us old people anyway. We'll probably just eat dinner at 4:30 and spend the rest of the evening watching _Golden Girls_ before turning in at eight."

Cameron just stared. Did Cuddy just do what she thought she did?

"Cameron, relax, it's a joke." _She did! Cuddy has a sense of humor!!_

"Is there anything good on right now?" Wilson and Foreman laid on their respective beds as one flipped through TV channels.

"I don't know. What do you usually watch?"

"Well, I usually watch TV with House, so I'm stuck with soap operas, talk shows, cartoons, monster truck rallies, or British comedy."

"House likes British comedy?"

"Yeah. He watches this one show called _Black Adder_ that he swears up and down has an actor that looks just like him."

"Really?"

"I don't see the resemblance, honestly. The guy on TV just seems like too happy a person to look like House."

"Well, that goes for just about anyone, quite frankly."

"Indeed. Hey, stop, that's a Sherlock Holmes movie!"

"Sherlock Holmes?"

"I like Watson better myself, personally."

Chase was afraid to move from his chair for fear of once again incurring House's wrath. Really, how was he supposed to know that taking up both drawers would be akin to a capital offense? _Who knew my slob of a boss even unpacked while on trips?_ His reverie was suddenly interrupted when House mumbled something to him. "Come again?"

"I said, do you still like Cameron?"

"I don't know. I guess."

"How can you not know if you like someone?"

"Well...I mean...do you like Cuddy?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"During the day, if you're not with us or Wilson, you're off flirting with her."

"You seem to be confusing flirting with arguing."

"Haven't you ever seen _Much Ado About Nothing_?"

"The movie with Emma Thompson? Yeah. Now that chick is hot. I would definitely hit that if I could. Couldn't believe Keanu and Denzel as brothers, though. You do know it was a book first, right?"

"Yes, of course I do. Now listen to me: you and Cuddy are just like Benedick and Beatrice."

"And what does that make you? The Claudio to Cameron's Hero? Nah, the guy who played him in the movie would be much better for Cam. What's his name again?"

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that deep down, you have feelings for Cuddy."

"You better believe I do! I have feelings for Cuddy's left fun bag and for Cuddy's right fun bag and something special for her ass."

"House, you wouldn't fight her so much if you didn't care! You wouldn't practically stalk her all the time if you didn't feel _something_."

"You know, I feel we've gotten entirely off-topic. The original question was about whether or not you still liked Cameron."

"Why is it any of your business?"

"I'm just curious. I was hoping we could bond in some way."

"Really?"

"Just tell me!" Suddenly, House's phone rang. "You're not off the hook yet, mister. Hello?...Uh-huh...Really?...Will there be strippers involved?...Calm down, it's just a question...Uh-huh...Sure, why not! What time?...Okie-dokie. See you then, Cuddles."

"Speak of the devil."

"Shut up. As it would happen, she and Wilson and I are going out this evening. Now, answer my damn question."

"Oh, that reminds me." Chase hopped up and walked to the closet.

"What, what reminds you?"

"I told Foreman and Cameron to meet me in the lobby at five. When are you meeting your friends?"

"Six. What time is it now?"

"3:30. I'm going to go jump in the shower."

"Not until you answer me!"

"Too late!" Chase quickly slammed the bathroom door shut and locked it before House could come after him. He was glad he remembered to bring his phone in with him in case House decided to be evil...again. Although he wasn't ready to definitively answer House's question, Chase was intrigued by his boss' reluctance to confirm whether or not he had feelings for Dr. Cuddy. As he turned the warm water on, an evil smile crossed his features as a plan began to hatch in his mind.

Foreman couldn't believe what he had just been asked to do. Leave it to House to trap his roommate in the bathroom with his cane. The man really needed to stop torturing Chase. With Wilson in tow to help talk House down from whatever insanity peak he was perched upon, the neurologist made his way to room 923 and knocked. "Dr. House, you really need to let Chase out of the bathroom."

"Not until he answers me!" Foreman couldn't help but wonder what horrible wrong he'd committed in a past life to get stuck in this crazy person hell.

"House!"

Wilson stepped forward. "Wait, Foreman. Let me. House, let us in, or I'll tell Cameron and Cuddy about your _L Word_ fanfiction habit."

"You wouldn't."

"In a minute." There was a few seconds' pause before the door opened.

"Evil bastard."

"At your service." As the two stepped in, Chase rushed out of the bathroom and into the hallway.

"Foreman, grab my wallet!"

"What?"

"Just do it, and meet me downstairs!" The Australian was already halfway down the hall as he screamed his commands.

"Um...okay." Foreman sauntered over to the table and picked up the wallet. "I guess I'll see you guys later." He stopped on his way out, turning to face his boss. "_The L Word_?"

"It's a hobby. Scram!"

Within a few seconds, House and Wilson were alone. "Trapping fellows in bathrooms until they answer inane questions. I gotta hand it to you, House, it's a good one. Care to share what this query was?"

"I asked him if he still liked Cameron, and he wouldn't give me a straight answer."

"How high school are you?"

"I was just trying to make conversation!" Silence fell between them as House laid down on his bed while his friend sat on the edge of Chase's. For a few minutes the only sounds in the room were coming from Oprah Winfrey and her celebrity guest of the week.

"What's wrong?"

"Huh?"

"You have some brooding, contemplative look on your face. You don't get that unless something's wrong. So, out with it."

"It's nothing."

"Oh, c'mon, tell me. You know I'll find out sooner or later anyway, so you just better tell me now. It will be less painful."

_What the hell_, House thought._ It's not as though the topic is a new one for us._

"So?"

"So the little twit asked me if I liked Cuddy, and..."

"And...?"

"I couldn't say no."

"You couldn't say no?"

"Is there an echo in here?"

Wilson sighed. "Why couldn't you say no?"

"I don't know. He started going on and on about us being like Benedick and Beatrice, and I couldn't seem to disagree with his assessment."

"Wait...who?"

"Benedick and Beatrice. You know, _Much Ado About Nothing_? Shakespeare?"

"Huh. Never read it."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. Tell me about the characters."

"They're these two people who obviously have some history together, although the audience never finds out what it is, exactly. It's assumed to be a love affair in their youth gone wrong. Anyway, they have this battle of wits constantly. Their friends, Don Pedro, Leonato, Hero, and Claudio...are you sure you haven't read this?"

"Positive. Go on."

"Well, their friends conspire to make them fall in love, or to at least realize their dormant feelings, and it works. They fall madly in love. It's really sappy. I mean, Benedick, this bad ass at the beginning, becomes some love sap in the end. And then there's Beatrice - she's perfectly happy being independent until the stupid people around her play with her heart."

"I hafta tell you, House - I think Chase hit it right on the head."

"Yeah, well, what do you want me to do about it?"

"_I_ don't want you to do anything. You have to want to do something. In the mean time, we have to meet Cuddy in twenty minutes in her room. Go shower, get dressed, and we'll talk about this later. Okay?"

"Fine. You didn't even see the movie? Kenneth Branagh? Emma Thompson?"

"Now, she's a fox."

"Tell me about it."

**And this is where I will leave you while I go ponder what's to happen next. See you then!**


	4. Sixth Street Revelations

A Week in Texas, Chapter 4

by HotlipsPierce

Thank you for the wonderful, amazing, excellent, and awesome reviews. You make me feel special.

This chapter I show my love for one of my favorite cities in the entire world - Austin, Texas. Hook 'Em Horns! Hopefully, I won't go on too much of a tangent.

As usual, nothing's for profit. You would think, though, at some point, Fox could give us a gift card or something for our loyalty, right? Oh well.

You know what to do.

"I'm telling you, House likes Cuddy!"

"House doesn't know how to like somebody; that's part of his charm."

"He could, too, like somebody. I just doubt that somebody is Cuddy. House needs a woman in his life who is caring and willing to help him change his ways. He needs a woman who is..."

"You?" Chase finished for her. He and Cameron, along with Foreman, were strolling down Sixth Street. For a Tuesday night, the street was quite crowded. All around them, they saw drag queens, Republicans, and frat boys. Inside the clubs and bars that they passed were local bands just trying to hit big and comedians begging for a laugh. Before them was the University of Texas Tower standing majestically against the night sky; behind them was the Texas State Capitol, a building full of hopes, dreams, and history surrounded by a city exploding with new-age ideas, burnt orange pride, and lots of hippies. Many call it the blue city in the red state; only a few can call it home. Tonight, however, Robert Chase was calling Austin, Texas, the birthplace of the greatest idea he'd ever had in his young life: He, hopefully with the help of his colleagues, was going to make Dr. Greg House, the rudest, crudest, most crass man to ever grace the halls of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, fall madly in love with its Dean of Medicine, Dr. Lisa Cuddy, a curly-haired bundle of independence, pride, and professionalism. "Face it, Cameron. You and House are never going to happen. He needs Cuddy."

"When did I ever imply that _I_ was the one House needed?" The men walking with her stopped dead in their tracks and stared. "Okay, okay, point taken." She suddenly took on a new air of self-righteousness. "You know what, Chase, I will help you in this little endeavor, but not for the reasons you want me to. I want you to see that House and Cuddy together could never work. They are too different."

"Whatever. As long as you're in. What about you, Foreman?"

"What's in it for me?"

"My hypothesis is that a House who is happy in his personal life is a House who is not as cranky in his professional one. Imagine spending the rest of the fellowship with a boss who smiles, a boss who laughs, a boss who calls us idiots only once a week instead of thrice daily, a boss who..."

"All right! You had me at 'not as cranky'."

"Perfect. And so, to quote a play I once read, 'If we can do this, Cupid is no longer an archer; his glory shall be ours, for we are the only love gods. Go in with me, and I will tell you my drift.'" Chase then marched into the closest restaurant, leaving Cameron and Foreman outside. They looked to each other and shook their heads before following him inside.

"Drama queen."

"Bartender! Four more beers over here!"

"Cuddy, there are only three of us."

"Two of them," the administrator slurred to Wilson as she struggled to regain her balance on her barstool, "are for me."

House couldn't help but laugh at his hopelessly drunk friend. _The girl deserves to have some fun in her life._ _And as fun evenings out go, this one was definitely one of the best_, he mused. Once Wilson had finally been able to get him ready and upstairs to Cuddy's room (and after the obligatory observation of the Cuddy twins, of course), the trio set out to prove to the world that despite looking middle age straight in the wrinkled face, they were still able to "kick it." _Or whatever the hell the kids are saying these days._ They'd had dinner at some little hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant, spending the entire time sharing stories from their youth. House had especially enjoyed reminiscing about college with Cuddy. Life was so much less complicated then. They were less complicated then. _The decision to act on feelings was less complicated then._ He quickly pushed that traitorous memory to the back of his mind as he continued to recall the night. After supper, they had decided to explore this "Sixth Street" the ducklings had been talking about. While there, they encountered what would later be described as the best part of the excursion - Wilson being savagely hit on by a group of drag queens. Soon after, to help calm the oncologist's understandably rattled nerves, the three had come into this bar. It was here that Lisa Cuddy decided to live up to an old nickname - "Party Pants."

"Dr. House, are you smiling?"

"Why, yes, Dr. Cuddy, I am."

"It's because the alcohol is making my breasts larger, isn't it?"

"I had no idea that was medically possible, but now that you mention it..."

"Dance with me, House."

"Dance with Wilson. He needs the male ego boost more than I do right now." Without even the slightest comeback, Cuddy hopped off the stool...well, more like _fell_ off the stool...and dragged a startled Wilson out onto the floor. House laughed once more as he brought a bottle of beer to his lips.

"He seems happy tonight, doesn't he?" Cuddy murmured to Wilson as they swayed to a slow song.

"I haven't seen him smile like that since before the... you know."

"Yeah." She did know. _Damn. Do I know._ A guilt-ridden tear threatened to fall down her cheek before her friend interrupted her thoughts.

"Cuddy."

"Hmm...?"

"Don't focus on it tonight. He's happy."

"Okay."

When Cameron, Foreman, and Chase re-entered the hotel lobby, they were suddenly bombarded by the sounds of a grand piano playing and two obviously intoxicated people singing horrendously off-key. Following the "music," they stumbled upon House at the piano as Cuddy pranced around it.

"_She had a dream about the King of Sweden_

_"He gave her things that she was needin'_

_"He gave her a home built of gold and steel_

_"A platinum car with diamond-studded wheels."_

"Are they singing 'Minnie the Moocher'?" Foreman whispered.

"It matters?" Cameron replied.

_"Tee-dee-hee-dee-hee-dee-hee!"_

_"Tee-dee-hee-dee-hee-dee-hee!"_

Chase dared to break off his employers' fun. "Um...Dr. House? Dr. Cuddy?" The pair suddenly stopped and looked at the younger doctors with looks of children who'd been caught being naughty. "Uh...where's Dr. Wilson?"

With a shake of the head, House was House once again. "Jimmy and this hooker met up..."

"House! He was tired and decided to turn in early. In the meantime, House and I found this piano, and, um..."

"Right! Well, how 'bout we break up this awkward moment and all go to our respective rooms?" They all followed House's lead and headed for the elevators. Cuddy was shocked by how hard it was to say good-night to House, and before stepping off the elevator, they seemed to exchange significant looks that did not go unnoticed by their companions.

"Dr. Cuddy?" Cameron began as they got back to their room.

"Yes, Cameron?"

"It could be just me, but you just seem really, really happy. Any particular reason?"

Cuddy paused and sighed. There was no other way to describe her feelings except to say, "I just saw an old friend of mine tonight."

"No way. Who?"

"My old pal Greg House."

"I'm sorry, I don't follow."

"You wouldn't understand. The only way to understand is if you'd known House as long as I have."

This was the break that Cameron had been waiting for. While in the restaurant tonight, she and her colleagues had devised a plan to get House and Cuddy together, and part of Cameron's job was to find out more about how the two had met. Although she didn't appreciate having to make an effort to bring together people she didn't feel were right for one another, Cameron had been curious as to the specifics of their relationship from before their working one, from before the infarction. "I know you and House met in college, but I never knew the particulars. Would I be too forward in asking if you could you tell me?"

Cuddy was still drunk enough to be in a reflective mood. She giggled as she kicked off her heels and laid down on her bed. "I met Greg first semester sophomore year. He was the TA for my, get this, Intro to Anatomy class."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"We became friends when I started coming to office hours religiously. Greg was just fun to hang out with. He was a good friend." Cuddy almost whispered the last sentence as the memories flooded back to her - House studying with her, House drinking with her, House hugging her as she cried when boys broke up with her, House kiss - _STOP! Stop, Lisa. Don't torture yourself with that one._ Her head shot up, and she was suddenly curt with her roommate. "Oh well, ancient history. Anything else?"

"I...I guess not."

Foreman stepped into his room and found Wilson, in bed, reading a medical journal. The fellow's directive had been clear and concise: _Get Wilson in on this._ "Dr. Wilson, we need to talk."

"About what?"

"Have you ever read _Much Ado About Nothing_?"

"Oh, God, not this again..."

House and Chase stared each other down. Neither wanted to be the one to break the silence, the one to ask the hard questions. Finally, Chase, deciding he was going to have to be the grown-up in the room, looked House straight in the eye and asked, "Look, do you want play _Super Mario_, or do you want to play _Halo_?"

"_Super Mario_. But I get to be Mario, Luigi."

"Whatever." They turned on the console and began to play their video game. As the familiar theme music began to play, Chase reflected on what he'd decided his mission was. Both Cuddy and House were too proud to ever admit having honest, romantic feelings toward one another, but he knew that if he could get one of them to break down, the other was sure to crumble. _An 'I love you' or at least an 'I think about you in a good way every so often' coming from House would mean so much more than if it was just Cuddy saying it. House can't back-talk himself._ _But how to approach this?_ "How was your night out?"

"Concentrate on the game, Chase."

"Come on, House, we both know we can focus on both the game and a conversation, so tell me, where did you guys go?"

"I don't feel like telling you."

"Funny, I feel like telling Cameron and Cuddy about, what was it now? _The L Word_?"

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, but Wilson does."

"Wilson won't squeal."

"You're right. The man's never gossiped a day in his life. Your secret is completely safe."

House rolled his eyes. "We ate Chinese food. We went to a bar. Happy?"

"Talk about anything special?"

"Yes. Wilson and I are moving to Massachusetts to get married. Cuddy's going to be both maid of honor and best man."

"In other words...?"

"In other words, what I talk about with my friends is none of your business. What are you, the damn Spanish Inquisition?"

"Nobody ever expects the Spanish Inquisition."

House slammed down the controller. "Just because you have a funny accent does not give you the right to quote Monty Python to me! Now what is it you want me to tell you? That I had a good time? That, in fact, I was happier in these last five hours than I have been in the last eight years? That every time I close my eyes now, all I can see are Cuddy's perfect blue eyes looking back at me? Is that what you want me to tell you?"

Chase was speechless. When he was able to find words, the only thing he could think to say was. "Yeah."

**Okay, so that's where I am at this point. For those of you keeping score, Chase's play quote was from _Much Ado About Nothing_. Specifically, Don Pedro - 2.2.376-378. I know a couple of you have asked whether or not I planned on making it the baseline for the plot. Honestly, I had originally thrown it in as a random Robert Sean Leonard/ Hugh Laurie's ex-girlfriend Emma Thompson reference, but as I kept typing the Benedick/Beatrice plot line from memory, I realized how amazingly fitting it was. So, it will probably come up again, and I may go back to it if I can't figure out where to take a character. "Minnie the Moocher" is all Cab Calloway's, unless you want to count the time Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry performed it beautifully on _Jeeves and Wooster._ There's a clip of it on YouTube. Go check it out. Sorry that I didn't give Foreman and Wilson a bigger conversation at the end; I think their few lines said all that needed to be said. I know deep down how this is going to end and what specific steps need to be taken to get there, but if you have any ideas, don't hesitate to share.**


	5. A Blast From the Past

A Week in Texas, Chapter 5

By HotlipsPierce

**A/N: Sorry this hasn't been updated sooner. The wonderful world of college has decided to rear its ugly head and keep me from my real love, Greg House. Also, my mind has been stuck on this other scenario that distracted me from the conference in Texas and dragged me toward friends from Britain. Let me explain: I've recently become fascinated by the Hugh Laurie/Stephen Fry/Emma Thompson friendship. It just seems like the greatest thing ever, and I wish TPTB would do something about it in regards to our lovely show. However, they don't seem to be chomping at the bit, as it were, so I've decided to do my part. I was going to start writing a separate fic completely to satisfy my needs, but last night I realized how I could integrate them into this story perfectly, and, well…here we are. That being said, if you could do me the biggest favor in the world and picture Mark and Elizabeth as Stephen and Emma, respectively, then you would be seeing my **_**House**_** world as I do at the moment. Okay, I'm sorry for the ramble, but one more thing…**

**The obligatory disclaimer: If I owned Gregory House, he would never have the energy to come to work…because he'd spend all his time playing piano for me! (Bet you thought I was going elsewhere with that one, huh?) Anyway, that's why I'm not allowed to own him. Or his friends. Or his enemies. I also just made up a name of a conference to suit my needs. Please don't sue.**

**However, do review.**

**Enjoy.**

It had been a whole 36 hours since House had announced to the entire world that he found Cuddy attractive. Well, in actuality, he'd yelled it at Chase, who undoubtedly had told Foreman and Cameron, who undoubtedly had told Wilson, who, House was certain, had undoubtedly announced it to the entire world. Cuddy, however, still seemed to be oblivious to said proclamation. The day before had been just like any other for the two doctors – bantering, eye-rolling, leering – the usual. House had even made an ass of himself at the International Conference of Teaching Hospitals' opening gala just to make sure he didn't raise any suspicions that an attraction to one's boss causes one to turn soft when it comes to professional anarchy.

_Besides, people who fail to appreciate a good Grateful Dead tie when they see one just don't deserve respect in the first place_, House mused as he limped as fast as he could down the hotel hallway. He'd been trying to catch up with his boss for the last five minutes. "For the third time, Cuddy, slow down! I'm a cripple, not a sprinter."

"House, we're late."

"My speech was only supposed to begin ten minutes ago. We're fine."

"You know, the last time I checked, ten minutes late is still LATE."

"Some might call it fashionable."

"You lost the right to be called fashionable after what you wore last night."

"Respect the classics, man."

Cuddy could only roll her eyes in exasperation as she held the door open to the ballroom where House was scheduled to give his lecture. She surveyed the anxious crowd and tried her best to convey a heartfelt apology with her eyes. House had told her that his topic was to be "The Art of the Differential Diagnosis" – _he would come up with a title like that_ – but something he'd been murmuring to her all morning told her that it wouldn't be that simple.

"Seriously, Cuddy, you don't want to be here for this."

"Yeah, right. Don't play that with me. I'm making sure you actually give a lecture."

"Cuddy…"

"House…"

He sighed. "Fine, but if you start crying, it's not my fault."

"Why would I cry?"

"Sure, act like I didn't see you sneaking the hotel's entire stock of Ben & Jerry's up to your room last night." House didn't see, but rather felt Cuddy's open-mouthed look of shocked annoyance as he turned and made his way up to the platform. After hanging his cane on the side of the podium, he began, "Good afternoon, doctor people. My name is Dr. Gregory House. You may call me Greg. In your fine programs, you have been told that this speech is to be entitled 'The Art of the Differential Diagnosis.' Snappy, don't you think? Well, you see, I told my boss that title a while back so that I could get away with giving a particular diagnosis lecture. Her name is Dr. Lisa Cuddy. She's the skinny brunette in the last row with the big rack. You can call her Cuddles, although I don't suggest it. She owns a whip." By this point, Cuddy had slid as far down in her seat as was humanly possible and hid her face in her hands. Satisfied that he had her gotten her properly riled up, House quickly sobered before continuing, "What I'd really like to talk to you about is how to properly diagnose a leg. Let's start with three cases…"

Two hours later, the now-depressed but certainly enlightened audience filed out of the ballroom. Cuddy slowly moved to sit in the front row. House grabbed his cane and plopped himself down next to her.

"I told you that you didn't want to be here for this."

"I'm fine."

"It's just that as past cases go, mine is a perfect example of - "

"House, don't make excuses. It's an amazing lecture."

"That it is, indeed. For an American, at least." The oddly familiar voice behind them caused the pair to turn around. Their annoyance at having been interrupted quickly changed into elation as they recognized the figure before them.

"Mark Weston, you dog! When did you sneak in?" House asked, jumping up with surprising agility to embrace his old friend.

"Some time during your rant about how Carmen Electra is, in fact, an appropriate subject for a medical discussion. Apparently, that is the only way someone can miss a six foot – five giant Brit walking into a room." Mark's gaze shifted and became almost paternal. "Lisa."

"Mark." She got up and hugged him for what felt like minutes. "I had no idea you were going to be here. Why weren't you at the gala last night? When did you get in? Where's Elizabeth?"

"My God, Cuddy, did you take happy pills this morning?"

"It's quite all right, Greg. I can assure you that Elizabeth will be acting exactly the same way when she sees you two. Now, let's see, I believe the answers to your questions are that the jet lag wiped us out, it was about 2:30 yesterday afternoon, and she's upstairs rediscovering her favorite American soaps."

"God, I hope she caught _General Hospital._ I just have to know what Lucky was up to today." House then turned and stalked over towards the doorway.

"Tell me, Lisa, why do you still keep him around?"

"I'm not completely sure."

"Well, aren't you guys coming? Wilson said he was paying for lunch, and we don't want to be late."

"Oh, _now_ you want to be on time! Mark, would you like to have lunch with us?"

"I'd love to. Let me call Elizabeth and get her to come down, and I'll be right behind you."

"That's wonderful. We'll be in the lobby." House and Cuddy left Mark in the ballroom and made their way down the hallway.

"I can't wait to see Elizabeth again. God, House, how long has it been since we've seen them?"

"Fifteen years, give or take."

"Geez, we're old."

"Thanks for reminding me."

"So much has happened. So much has changed." Cuddy froze in her tracks. "Oh, shit."

House could count on one hand how many times he'd heard his boss curse this harshly in public since becoming Dean of Medicine, so, naturally, he was thrown for a loop. "What?"

"They don't know that they don't know about…you know."

"English, please."

She sighed and rephrased. "Mark and Elizabeth don't know that Wilson and the ducklings don't know about _us_." Her voice was almost a whisper. House had to get closer to even hear her. When she had finished, he gently grabbed her arm and started moving them towards the lobby once more.

"First, Mark and Elizabeth _do_ know that you're my boss, and they're both professionals. They know better. Second, I may have let it slip to Wilson a long time ago that we used to go out in college, and we made a deal that if he ever told another living soul, I'd get to tell people that during a drunken stupor once he told me of his man-crush on Hawkeye from _MASH_. Wait a second…whoops. Anyway, third – 'ducklings'?"

"Did I really say that out loud? Sorry."

"Don't apologize. I like it. Gotta use it some time." By now, they had arrived at their destination. Wilson, Cameron, Foreman, and Chase, who were huddled in such way that Cuddy could swear they were plotting some evil conspiracy, spotted them from the other side of the room and moved to join them.

"Movie Hawkeye or TV Hawkeye?"

"Huh?"

"Wilson's crush."

"Oh. Um…TV Hawkeye."

"Alan Alda was definitely sexy back in the day."

"I'm going to pretend like we're not having this conversation, okay?" Within seconds, House and Cuddy were joined by their four colleagues and shortly thereafter by Mark, who informed them that his lovely bride would be down as soon as she "put her face on."

"Elizabeth also wanted me to inform you, Greg, that she had put together a full _GH_ synopsis."

"Sweet."

"Ahem."

"Yes, Wilson?"

"Could you…"

"Hmm…?"

Cuddy rolled her eyes…again. _How can someone so smart be so dense?_ "Introduce Mark to the nice people, House."

"Oh, yeah. My bad. This is Dr. Mark Weston. He and his now-wife Elizabeth were my roommates in med school. If you couldn't tell, he's British. Hey, Chase, you and he have something in common."

"For the hundredth time, I'm Australian!"

"Of course you are. So, Mark, this is Robert Chase, Allison Cameron, and Eric Foreman. They are my quote, un-quote team."

"How nice to meet you. My condolences."

"For what?" one of them asked.

"For having to work with Greg."

"Thank you." Foreman had never been so sincere in his life.

House shot the younger doctor a glare before turning to Wilson. "And this is James Wilson. He's the Head of Oncology at Princeton-Plainsboro."

"So this is the famous new best friend Jimmy Wilson you've told me about."

"One and the same."

"A pleasure to meet you, James."

"Same here, Mark." Cuddy thought she saw the slightest of jealous looks pass through Mark's eyes as he shook Wilson's hand. She didn't have time to ponder the meaning of it, though, for at that time, she heard someone scream excitedly behind her. Turning around, she couldn't help but return the sentiment.

"Lizzie!"

"Lissie!" The women ran to each other and embraced one another very tightly as they jumped and kept screaming. Although the scene was nothing new to House and Mark, the other doctors behind them were slightly horrified at the sight of their über-professional Dean of Medicine acting not unlike a fourteen-year-old. "You're so beautiful!"

"You're even more beautiful! It's been too long!"

"Oh, I know! So, wait, wait, wait, let me get this straight: my little Lisa Cuddy is now big bad Greg House's boss?" Cuddy eagerly nodded. "That, my dear, is what they call in my business 'poetic justice.'" The two girlfriends shared another laugh before moving to re-join the group. The first person Elizabeth saw was House. She was somewhat saddened to see her once-athletic friend clinging so firmly to a cane, but she quickly schooled her features and plastered on a smile. "Hello, Greg."

"Hello, beautiful." He leaned down and chastely kissed her cheek before pulling her in for a hug.

"I thought that was my job."

Without moving, he replied, "Shut up. I haven't seen her in almost twenty years." House then made his introductions again, presenting to his colleagues Dr. Elizabeth Mansfield-Weston, professor of American Literature at the University of London.

"Why American lit?" Foreman asked as they all walked out of the hotel.

"Mark Twain has always fascinated me. Much in the same way that many American girls get caught up in the romance and chivalry of Austen's _Pride and Prejudice _or _Sense and Sensibility_, I fell in love with the action of _Tom Sawyer_. It was just too much fun to read. From there, I got hooked on people like Edgar Allen Poe, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Edith Wharton. Then one day during the summer after my freshman year at university, I picked up Kerouac's _On the Road_, and that was it for me. I must have read it thirty times. Well, I convinced my boyfriend after that that we simply _had_ to go to graduate school in America, and when we got there we just _had_ to find a sweet, lovable ass for a roommate, and -"

"You couldn't find one that was sweet and lovable so you settled for House," Chase finished, proud that he'd gotten a good one off on his boss. He barely resisted the House-like "Oh, snap!" at the end.

"That's okay. I couldn't find a real British doctor for my team so I settled for a fake one."

"I'm _Australian_!"

"Of course you are."

"Oh, look, here's the restaurant," Wilson interjected, silently hoping House wouldn't cause any major cultural disturbances before the day was over. He held the door open for the others to walk inside before suddenly having what he considered to be a very bright thought. "Hey, guys, why don't you get us a table. I want to talk to Dr. Weston for a second."

"Which Dr. Weston?"

"Uh…the tall one."

The group was seated before the two men could come back inside, but they were able to see them talking outside the windows. "What do you think that's all about?" Cameron asked.

"Wilson's probably asking what the secret to marital commitment is."

"House, be nice."

"Why do people always tell me to 'be nice'? When have I ever given the impression that I strive to be nice? That I'm some 'good-ass mother-liker'?"

"What the hell?"

"Sorry, Foreman, I was trying to be hip with your people's lingo."

Soon, Wilson and Mark entered the restaurant and sat down with their party. Lunch was surprisingly fun. Mark and Elizabeth seemed to have an overall calming effect on House. Much to the shock of his lackeys, the man even smiled a few times and never popped a Vicodin once.

The group went their separate ways after eating and attended the rest of the day's lectures. Cuddy was exhausted after her day and wanted nothing more than to just collapse into bed. _Of course, with Little Miss Talkative for a roommate, that will most definitely be impossible._ Sure enough, upon getting back to the room, she was barraged with questions. "So how did you meet Mark and Elizabeth?"

"Once House and I became friends, I started hanging out at his place. It was better than staying in the dorms. Lizzie and Mark are two really fun people, and after a while, they became almost like surrogate parents to me."

"What would that have made House?"

"I'd rather not consider that. Look, Cameron, I'm really tired, and…" A knock at the door interrupted Cuddy's speech. The person on the side caused to Cuddy to wake up all at once.

"I have ice cream, Jane Austen, and wine coolers, the makings of a great girl's night in. What do you say?"

House had just crawled into bed when a knock came at the door. Chase answered it and then peered around the corner. "It's Wilson, Foreman, and Mark. They say to put your pants back on because we're going out."

**Okay…that took forever. But I got it! There will be more soon, I promise. I really hope you enjoyed it. Oh, and in case you didn't catch the "good ass mother liker" comment, go to YouTube and type "fry laurie be nice" into the search engine. You'll thank me later, I promise.**


	6. In Vino, Veritas

A Week in Texas, Chapter 6

By HotlipsPierce

**A/N: I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. The joys of university abound. In any case, happy fourth season (at least in the States)! So far, those of you who reviewed the last chapter seem to really enjoy the presence of Mark and Elizabeth, which is fantastic because I'd hate to have to kill them off so soon. I really have no idea how long this story is going to go, although I am determined to finish it, no matter how long it takes. I hope you stay with me! (Stay with me long enough to review, at least… ******

**Disclaimer: Can anyone **_**own**_** Gregory House, really?**

**Enjoy.**

Within an hour, Cuddy, Cameron, and Elizabeth were giggling their way through a game of "Truth or Dare." So far, they'd managed to spill information about their respective first kisses, how exactly Cuddy got the name "Partypants," and whether or not Elizabeth and Mark had joined the Mile High Club on their way over from England. As for the dares, well, let's just say that Cameron's teddy bear will never be the same.

"Dr. Lisa Cuddy," the youngest drunk slurred.

"That's me."

"I need another drink."

"Here you go. Isn't it your turn?"

"That it is. Dr. Lisa Cuddy!"

"You already said that already, silly."

"Oh yeah. Anyway…you need to stop swaying, by the way…truth or dare?"

"Truth!"

"Describe your first time."

"My first time?"

"In detail."

"And in detail knowing that I already know all the details…in detail," Elizabeth added.

"You do?" Cameron shot her the best-shocked look she could.

The professor nodded with the wisdom of an astute, inebriated sage. "I do. So start talking, Lisa."

"It was the end of sophomore year at Michigan."

"What was his name?"

"That's none of your business."

"I think for it to be a complete truth, it is."

"It's not." Cuddy glared at Cameron, and the immunologist suddenly felt quite sober. Cuddy proceeded, a nostalgic smile playing across her features, "It was the end of sophomore year, and my boyfriend – who shall remain anon…anonom…that's a hard word when you've been drinking…you don't get his name! He decided that we should celebrate the end of finals. I have to tell you, he had the most amazing…"

"…breasts I've ever seen," House took another swig of his beer. "You were there, Wilson. Tell them."

"Well, as we're all medical professionals, I'll speak technically." The so-called "medical professionals" leaned in with anticipation. "She was built like a brick oncology ward."

A chorus of giddy, testosterone-filled laughter rang out through the dingy bar. House had initially been none too pleased to be dragged out of his warm bed, but upon further reflection, he hadn't had a good night out with just "the boys" in…well…in a long time. _Dare I say I'm having fun?_ Suddenly, a thick Australian-accented voice broke his musing.

"Oh, look, a foosball table!"

"They have foosball in your home country?" his fellow lackey mocked.

"As a matter of fact, we do. And I could take any one of you on right now and dominate!"

"Let's go, Chase!"

"You're on. Your ass is mine, Foreman!" Upon receiving several confused stares, Chase amended, "In a completely heterosexual way, of course. Dawg. Bro."

"C'mon, _Homie_. Let's go play." As Foreman led Chase away, the three remaining doctors leaned against the bar.

"So you just up and left Elizabeth in bed, Mark?"

"No, James. As we speak, she's getting Lisa and Dr. Cameron completely hammered on wine coolers and proper British literature."

"And only good things can from that, I'm sure."

"Indeed."

"They're gossiping about your _fantastic_ body, no doubt."

"Some cultures revere potbellies, you know, Gregory. Crippled egomaniacs, on the other hand, are quite a hard sell, even among the most primitive of tribes."

"Listen, buddy, the cane is a chick magnet. You should have seen how hard Cameron fell for me. I'll have you know that she quit once, and the terms of her re-hiring were that I take her out on a date. So put _that_ in your pipe and smoke it."

"Ah, yes, bribing your employer for sexual favors. It's the American dream."

"Love it or leave it."

"I intend to."

There was a pause in the conversation as the three knocked back more of their respective drinks. "There wasn't sex, by the way."

"Come again?"

"Cameron. Just for the record, I haven't, as my colleague over here would so gently put it, _done_ her."

"I didn't say that. It was that 'patient' of yours who said that. And I believe his exact words were, 'Do her, or you're gay.'"

"You didn't seem to have a problem joining in on that so-called rendition of…what the hell is that song called anyway?"

"The K-I-S-S-I-N-G song?"

"Yeah."

"You know, I don't know. It may actually be 'The K-I-S-S-I-N-G Song.'"

"It couldn't be. That's just too long a title for a song, especially considering it's meant for sole use by eight-year-olds," Mark said, re-joining the conversation.

"Should I be offended by that?"

"Nah, we're too drunk to get offended." They were silent again for a while until Wilson eventually wandered over to the foosball table to check on Foreman and Chase's progress, leaving Mark and House alone for the first time all day. "So…how's the private practice been?" House ventured. He couldn't believe how awkward he was feeling around one of his oldest friends. But fifteen years had done a lot to them, both emotionally and physically. Their lives had taken two vastly different courses, and the stark reality of that was just now beginning to set in.

"It's been very good to Elizabeth and me. I'm to the point now that I can take patients only when I want to and then proceed to charge them out the ass for it."

"And you accuse Cameron of abusing the American dream."

"Yes, well, at least I don't have a boss I have to hit on."

"I'm sure Liz will be very interested to hear that she's no longer considered 'Boss Woman.'"

"That reminds me – what's Lisa like as a boss?"

House lowered his head and reluctantly allowed an affectionate smile to spread across his face. "Fantastic," he spoke quietly. The last thing he wanted was for the others to hear the praises he was about to shower on a woman he'd publicly called demonic. "When it comes to dealing with an ass like me, she does it right. She gives me enough space to cope but isn't afraid to call my bluffs. And after my leg went caput, she and Wilson are the only ones I've been able to trust. I love her…administrative style." Mark had caught the hasty amendment in House's last sentence but decided not to call him on it. _No, we'll take this slowly. I wonder how Elizabeth is doing with Lisa._

Elizabeth and Cuddy were doing a hell of a lot better than Cameron. Soon after Cuddy confessed the events of "her first time," Cameron had promptly passed out. "Poor thing can't hold her wine coolers," Elizabeth murmured as she tucked the younger one into bed.

"You're so maternal, Lizzie. Why didn't you and Mark ever have kids?"

"I don't know. Parenting just wasn't for us, I guess. We both have soft spots for the little ones, but neither of us felt the overwhelming urge to trip over Barbie dolls or toy trucks at one o'clock in the morning. Mark and I are an extremely happy family of two."

"That's wonderful. I'm so happy that you've made it all these years. I would have completely lost my faith in all that was good and right if you guys had broken up."

"What about you, Lisa?"

"Hmm…?"

"I know you dreamt of blue-eyed babies in college. What became of that?"

"A single Dean of Medicine has no time for precious blue-eyed babies."

"I have a hard time believing that you believe that."

"I don't like it, but that's what my body told me."

"Oh?"

"I tried in vitro last year. It just…didn't work."

"I'm so sorry, Lisa."

"It's okay. It's probably for the best."

"Who gave you the injections?"

"Excuse me?"

"The little I know about IVF is that it involves twice-daily injections in an area that's pretty hard for someone to reach on their own. So, who gave you the injections, or is that too personal?"

"It's not too personal for just between us, and I dare you to guess who."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

"How's that been? Being Greg's boss?"

"Not easy at all. He is the best damn doctor I've met in my entire life. Sometimes he will pull a diagnosis literally out of thin air. But he does it with such crassness, with such utter disregard for social refinement, that I'm literally up to my elbows in paperwork for him. The Vicodin he's now so nicely addicted to doesn't help his personality at all."

"It's not as though he was Miss Manners' best friend before."

"True, but now it's as if the drugs take away what little filter he had up there. Oh, and did I mention that I had to perjure myself for him?" At Lizzie's bewildered look, Cuddy continued, "Yeah, he pissed off a cop in ways I would rather not explain, and my idiot of an employee got himself taken to court for forging a prescription, among other things."

"And you didn't fire him?"

"Oh, no, now his ass is _mine_. I'm finally getting him to do things that he has been avoiding for years."

"His ass has always been yours, Lisa," Elizabeth interjected knowingly. At Cuddy's embarrassed blush, the two broke out into giggles. As Cuddy recovered, she picked up the books Elizabeth had brought. The comforting titles of _Pride & Prejudice_, _Emma_, and _Sense & Sensibility_ passed before her eyes before another name caught her eye.

"Shakespeare, Lizzie?"

"It's a classic."

"_Much Ado About Nothing_. I love that movie."

"Me, too. Would I be so bold to say I used to have a thing for its director?"

"So, why'd you bring this one along?"

"I don't know. It just felt appropriate."

"Appropriate to what?"

"I don't know." Liz grabbed the book out of her friend's hands and started paging through. She stopped when a passage stood out to her. "'I love thee against my will.' I always loved Benedick and Beatrice. Didn't you?"

"A fun couple, indeed."

"That was a nice story you told earlier, by the way. I especially love how you left Greg's name out of it."

"Cameron does not need to know that I shtupped her boss for five years."

"Mentioning that you lost your virginity to a random bloke named Greg would not have led to a revelation such as that."

"Shows how much you know about Alison Cameron."

"Do you still love Greg?"

"Now that may be getting a little too personal."

"C'mon, Lisa. I mean I know you don't even call each other by your first names anymore, but he was your first love. First loves die hard."

"Liz…"

"He still loves you."

"I'm sorry. Come again?"

"The look he had in his eyes whenever he spotted you today was the same one he had many, many years ago when he came back to the apartment to tell us about a spunky little undergrad named Lisa."

"Oh, God, not this story again."

"I love this story, so I'm going to tell it again to my romantic heart's content. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and Gregory bounded through the door. I think he was skipping, actually. He sat Mark and I down and made us listen to how this amazing sophomore had burst through his office door that day to complain about her Anatomy homework. Apparently she felt there wasn't enough. She had the most enchantingly frizzy hair and the most sparkling blue eyes he'd ever seen. And miracle of miracles, her name was Lisa. Greg had even gone to the library to look the meaning of it up. It means 'God is my oath.' And right then and there, he made an oath of his own to not give up until she was his."

"And then he spent the rest of the night playing 'The Way You Look Tonight' over and over again on the piano. I remember."

"So?"

"So what?"

"So do you still love him?"

Cuddy leaned back against her pillow and thought for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I do. You're right, House…Greg was my first love, and there are definitely times when I still get that flutter when he barges into my office unannounced. It's not like we ended on such bad terms that it caused me to fall out of love with him. I just...I haven't had any sort of real relationship since the break-up, but he has. And you should have seen how he looked at Stacy. He _loved_ her. I doubt very seriously that he felt that kind of love for me after all that. But still, how can you be engaged to someone for a year and not still love them?"

The two girlfriends continued quietly with their conversation while, unbeknownst to them, a hand peeked out from underneath the covers of the other bed and subtly grabbed the cell phone lying on the bedside table. The hand flipped open the phone and scrolled the list of names until it landed on _Chase._ The hand then began to type furiously.

Chase, Foreman, Wilson, House, and Mark strolled out of the bar and started on their way back to the hotel. Chase was still smarting from his loss at the foosball table to Foreman, or his "complete and utter ownage" as the neurologist had so generously put it. However, Mark had reassured him that his efforts for the empire had not gone unnoticed, and he would be duly rewarded. During the Brit's slightly drunken overture about the joys of monarchy, Chase's phone rang. The intensity with which he read his new text message went completely unnoticed by House, who had decided to torture Wilson by crooning a tune that sounded vaguely like the theme to _MASH_.

"House, stop."

"_Because suicide is painless,_"

"House."

"_It brings on many changes,_"

"I'll take your cane."

"_And I can take or leave it if I please_."

"Are you done?"

House considered the question for a moment, and then replied the only he felt necessary, "_Hey Jude, don't make it bad,_"

"Oh, sweet Jesus."

"This is nothing, Wilson. There was one time at Michigan he spent the entire night singing 'The Way You Look Tonight.'"

"What for?"

"He met a girl."

"Who?"

"Tell him, and I'll kick your fat ass. _Na-na-na-na, Na-na-na-na,_"

The rest of the walk back to the hotel passed in much the same manner. When they got back to their room, House couldn't shake the feeling that Chase was eying him more suspiciously than usual. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. My mind's just a little…_engaged_ if you will."

"Congratulations on the win," Wilson said as he followed Foreman into their hotel room.

"Thanks. Hey, you'll never believe the text Chase got a little while back."

Mark lightly rapped on the door. A few seconds later, his bride answered. "How was your evening, Love?"

"Productive, considering I was charged with Gregory House. Yours, Precious?"

"Dare I say my work here is almost done?"

**Okay, so some after-the-fact things to note…The **_**Much Ado**_** line is attributed to Benedick 5.2.67. Johnny Mandel and Mike Altman wrote "Suicide is Painless," and, of course, "Hey Jude" is a Lennon/McCartney work of art. Oh, and my usual YouTube assignment…go look up Fry & Laurie singing "Hey Jude." **_**Fantastic**_**. Um…thank you!!**


	7. Dreams

A Week in Texas, Chapter 7

By HotlipsPierce

**A/N: Okay, kiddies. Just a little mini-chapter that popped into my head during class today. I wrestled with whether or not to make it a part of a longer regular chapter, but then just decided to make it its own little vignette. By the way, thank you for the reviews so far on the last chapter! They really do make my day.**

**Enjoy.**

"_Greg." He couldn't help but smile. He just loved the way she said his name, and he couldn't believe that he was going to get to hear her say it for the rest of his life. "Greg," she murmured once more._

"_Yes, Lisa?"_

"_I love you."_

"_I love you, too."_

"_Always love me."_

"_Always."_

"_Never hurt me."_

"_Never, baby, never."_

"_Always protect me."_

"_You have my word."_

"_Greg."_

"_Lisa."_

"_You broke your promises."_

"_What? I would never…"_

"_You lie to me, you tell me I would suck at being a mom, you embarrass me in public. You're a drug-addled old man. How could I ever love someone as damaged, as crippled as you?"_

"_Lisa, I…" He stopped as all of her suddenly came into focus. She was pulling off her engagement ring – his ring – and throwing it into the lake. "NO!"_

House shot up in a cold sweat. _Just a dream_. He ran his palm over his face, encountering wetness, and wasn't able to decide whether it was just sweat or tears. He surveyed his surroundings. The room was dark, and he could just make out Chase's still sleeping figure in the other bed. _Good._ The last thing he needed was for the stupid wombat to witness what he was about to do.

House shuffled as best he could out of bed and grabbed his cane. He quietly limped over to his bag and opened one of the front pockets. Clenching his fingers around a small velvet box, House let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. _Good. Just a dream._ Pulling the box out, he gently opened it. It creaked slightly, as older objects have a tendency of doing. The object on the inside, however, still looked as luminous as the day he'd picked it out. House smiled ever so subtly. Sometimes he couldn't believe he kept the ring at all, much less brought it with him just about everywhere he went. _Obsessed much?_ Stacy had found the case once, but he'd been able to grab it out of her hands before she could open it and get the wrong idea. _What was it I told her? Oh, yeah…Christmas present._ Needless to say, she soon had a new pair of earrings housed in a box not that dissimilar to this one. House shot one last glare Chase's way, making one hundred percent sure he was asleep, before he gently picked the ring out of its holding place and placed the barest of kisses on it. He then quickly replaced it and shut the box, not caring too much about the noise it made. Jumping back into bed, House quietly resigned himself to spending the rest of the night as an insomniac. _As long as I don't have to dream that again._


End file.
